Drew Everlasting
by Kierielle Huntington
Summary: AU. Nancy, Frank, and Joe had no idea what they were getting into when they went to search for Nancy's kidnapped father in a rotting, abandoned factory. They had no knowledge of the life-altering experiments that were taking place. How could they, after all? How could they have known that that day would change the course of their lives...well, forever? Rated T for mild violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a sort of Alternate Universe story. I was reading _Tuck Everlasting_ this week (oddly, I never read it when I was younger), and the issue of never changing/growing came to my attention. Now - unlike a handful of my friends - for some reason, I actually liked the fact that the Hardys and Nancy were pretty much forever the same age. It's _not_ realistic, of course; but not everything in the glorious, limitless world of fiction has to be realistic. That's a good portion of the beauty of it. But that being said, I started to think about what that sort of permanence would mean to the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys characters if something happened to make them truly ageless (like how in the PC games, it's always the year that the game is released and yet Nancy is eighteen every time), and this fic is the result. I hope you enjoy!

 _{You know the drill; I own neither Nancy Drew nor The Hardy Boys. ;) }_

* * *

 _ **[...Present Day...]**_

Nancy Drew fingered the simple, elegant men's watch on her left wrist and almost smiled. It was a Swiss watch, incredibly enduring - its brown leather band was a little loose on her wrist, but she hardly noticed. It still worked, after all these years, and she would wear it long after it stopped ticking.

It was a part of her at this point. It always would be.

She thought about how she had changed, and how she was the same, and how - while some things _do_ shift - so many things are eternally permanent.

She would always be the Drew girl. She would likely always be the strawberry-blonde in a practical, pretty, unassuming dress with a pen and notepad in hand. She would certainly always be curious, and wondering about everything, and solving puzzles of innumerable types. She would always be a problem-solver.

And she would always...she would always _be._

Always.

That was her lot.

 _ **[...85 Years Earlier...]**_

 _No, no, slow down...think, Drew…think!_ Nancy commanded herself as she worked her hands from the thin rope that trapped her in the rickety chair. There was a way out; there always was. _Always!_

A muffled yell issued from the room across the hall - and Nancy grit her teeth as she recognized Frank's low voice. What on earth was happening in there? Nothing Frank couldn't handle, surely, but still…she flinched when the next thing she heard was something hard breaking.

She held her breath and strained to hear the conversation across the hall.

"Look, boy," a deep, rough voice growled - presumably directed at Frank. "You're going to tell us sooner or later. Who else knows about the experiments?"

 _The experiments?_ thought Nancy. Her fingers stopped working the ropes for half a second. _What experiments?!_

"Wouldn't you like to know?" a younger voice taunted - a voice that most certainly belonged to Joe. A dull _thud_ followed a breath later.

Goosebumps prickled the back of Nancy's neck as that sunk in. They had Joe in there, too? That was bad news for everybody.

They had been in worse situations, though. They would figure something out. She would just have to keep working these stubborn knots...

The three young detectives were in this rotting, dilapidated old factory in search of Nancy's father, the renowned attorney Carson Drew. He had been kidnapped a week earlier under highly mysterious circumstances. Nancy had suspected it had something to do with the lawsuit he was in the midst of (though she was in the dark about the details), so she had asked the Hardy brothers to assist her in tracking down the kidnappers.

They had come right away.

And so here they all were now.

She finally slipped out of the knots but she stayed seated in case the burly man who had tied her up came back in before Frank and Joe were left alone.

And soon enough, the men left the Hardys and congregated in the rusty hall. Nancy could partially see them and fully hear them now.

"I don't like the blond kid," one of the men - the burly one who had tied Nancy up - snarled. "He's got a loud mouth."

"Hey, you got a good punch in - really, it's the older boy we have to worry about," a tow-haired man countered. "He's too quiet. He's _thinkin'._ And did you see the look in the girl's eyes? Spittin' fire and brimstone. Almost as bad as the lawyer!"

"Fool," the leader hissed, his tone heavy with scorn - Nancy could not see his face from where she sat, but she could imagine the disdainful expression perfectly. "She's the lawyer's daughter. As long as we have Carson Drew, the girl will be manageable. The blond kid will follow his brother's lead. We just gotta make sure we keep the quiet one shut up."

Nancy bit her lower lip and angled her arms to look like she was still bound, just in case they looked into her room.

The man who had claimed Joe had a loud mouth spoke again - but quietly this time. "Do you think those kids know about the...tonic water? The blond brat seemed to know something."

 _Tonic water?!_ Nancy was burning with curiosity now. That _had_ to be a code-word. What was happening here? Then she thought of her father and a little - only a little - of the curiosity subsided. She had to find him. They had to get him out of here. After she saved Frank and Joe, of course - but _soon._ These hooligans were up to no good.

The leader shook his head, but from Nancy's restricted view his stance looked uncertain. Frazzled, even. "How can they know? Drew hardly knows himself!"

"I don't know, Boss," said the one who had called Frank too quiet. "These kids sure have an uncanny way of looking 'round. Like they own the place."

"Well," the leader snapped, "they _don't._ So after we get done with Drew, I want you to make sure those kids understand in what position they're in."

A dull chill ran up Nancy's spine.

As the three men walked past her door, she held her breath, but they - overconfident in their binding skills - walked past without more than a quick glace her way. Part of her wanted to creep behind them to discover where Dad was, but the rest of her knew she could never leave Frank and Joe behind. The trio's heavy footsteps echoed as they went, growing more distant by the second.

When she could no longer hear their echoes, she gingerly left her seat and sneaked across the hall, rubbing her wrists as she went.

"Frank? Joe?" she whispered, discreetly slipping inside the door. "Are you all right?"

* * *

 **TBC**

* * *

Let me know your thoughts and if you're interested in the rest! I really enjoy hearing from you all. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I just want to say a special thank you to Cherylann Rivers, max2013, Lindsay, BeeBee18, BellaBeau91, and Tabba for the wonderful reviews! It means a lot to get such a kind response to my first _Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys_ fic. I hope you all continue to enjoy this tale! :)

* * *

It was Joe who answered her question.

"Yeah, we're okay! Never better," he said lightly - but Nancy could detect the enthusiastic relief in his tone.

Nancy shut the door to the dusky, broken-windowed room where the Hardys were pinned, taking in the scene in a quick, practiced sweep.

It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. Far more smoke than fire. The boys were bound to chairs nearly identical to the one she had been tied in - and though Joe's left eye was blackening and Frank had a bloody lip, Nancy decided they were unharmed, all in all (for the Hardy brothers' standards, at least). There were pieces of a splintered chair or stool or something of that sort on the floor, like someone had thrown it in a blinding fury. That must have been the breaking sound she heard.

Thank goodness.

"Are you _sure_ you both are okay?" she asked, just to be certain.

Frank nodded, his brows drawn together just slightly. "We're really fine. You?"

"Never better," said Nancy, barely above a whisper, as she moved to the back of Frank's chair. She fumbled with the rope for a second before she got the knot loose. He tugged his arms out and stood, stretching carefully. Nancy only then noticed that behind the stray lock of hair brushing his eyebrow, a portion of his forehead was purple.

"Nancy…thank you."

"Any time," she replied, pausing before moving on to his brother.

She had Joe free in a second.

"Thanks, Nan! You're an absolute lifesaver," Joe declared as he practically sprang up from his seat, grinning like he didn't have a black eye.

She found herself smiling.

"You think I don't know that?" she teased.

"I just thought you'd appreciate the reminder!" Joe smirked. He rubbed his wrists – his had harsh, distinct rope burn.

The urgency of their predicament sunk in all over again.

"We need to go find Dad," Nancy urged.

Frank nodded. "Nancy, there's something very odd going on here. The men mentioned something about experiments…they think we know something, about _whatever_ it is."

Nancy met Frank's gaze. _Dad might know,_ she realized. _He might actually know what's going on here._ Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

"Do you want to head to where those men went?" she asked, turning to include Joe. "I saw the way. They're heading to the double door room. The one we passed when they dragged us over here?"

"Let's do it," said Frank, lightly touching Nancy's elbow.

Joe nodded with a little too much bravado in his eyes. "Yeah! Let's go get 'em."

And with that, the three sleuths carefully checked if the coast was clear - it was - and they crept out into the shadows.

The halls were dim, and the lights that _were_ there were all rather dingy, but it didn't phase them as they hurried as fast as they dared toward the area that they suspected held Carson Drew.

It was a good two minutes before anyone spoke.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Joe whispered.

"We need a distraction," Nancy answered, just as quietly. "They'll definitely notice us without one."

"Likely," said Frank thoughtfully.

Though the hall widened a little, it got even darker as they made their way.

An odd feeling of dread knotted itself inside Nancy's stomach. This was a rather new sensation for her, this foreboding. She tried to put her finger on what it was, but was at a loss. Usually she relished this part (though maybe not as much as Joe did); the part where they exposed the ruffians and saved the day.

They always saved the day. That was just how it worked.

Had she taken that for granted?

For some reason, Nancy found herself wishing they didn't have to split up, even though the "distraction" was her idea. Something was starting to feel wrong. Heavy. Cold.

Permanent.

She wondered if Frank and Joe felt it, too. The three of them picked up their pace while staying close to the wall, as if that could actually hide them if anyone were to enter the hall.

Joe shook his head slightly as he walked, his focus darting from the hall to the shabby lighting lining the ceiling while Frank's gaze was grimly trained on the double doors far ahead. Nancy considered their stances.

They both looked a little tense. Nancy couldn't tell if it was "we-might-get-jumped-in-this-hallway-so-be-ready-to-thrash-your-way-out" tense or if it was the same disconcerting knot she felt.

Either way, the Hardys rarely showed discomfort.

And suddenly she was keenly aware that they wouldn't even be here if it weren't for her. Sure, the Hardys invited her into their cases, too, and this wasn't the first time she'd asked them for help, but...something about this was different.

Or perhaps _nothing_ about this was different. Maybe she was just imagining this sense of foreboding - maybe worry for her father was just getting to her head.

That sounded reasonable.

 _Yes, of course; perfectly reasonable!_

But it didn't untangle the knot in her stomach.

"Is that a sort of storage room?" Joe asked, jolting her back to the here and now.

"Hmmm?" Nancy turned to look.

They were near now to the double doors, but Joe was pointing at an ordinary doorway, not special in any way. Through the opening spilled artificial light. "Let me check," he said. He cautiously poked his head in the single door and whistled, low and long.

"Shhhhhh!" Frank admonished.

"It's a _lab!_ " Joe exclaimed, more quietly.

 _"What?!"_ Frank and Nancy whisper-cried in unison.

"Well, sort of? Come look!"

They did - and Joe was right.

Barrels, lots of barrels, were stacked around a plain, wide table. Notebooks lay open, scattered on the table's surface in no discernible order.

And beakers of clear liquid were arranged on the table's center.

 _This has to to be where they have the "tonic water,"_ thought Nancy.

They stepped into the lab and considered their options.

"I'll create the distraction," Frank offered. "You and Joe can find your father and free him."

"Are you sure you want to create the distraction alone?"

"Nancy, I can handle it," he answered steadily, and in the dim light she almost thought he smiled at her. Just a little - softly, even.

And that was when she _knew_ he felt the same foreboding.

And she found herself saying, "Frank, let's go together, okay? Instead of splitting up. They don't know we're loose, and if we wait behind the crates until they leave to check on us or something, we can easily sneak in."

"But, Nan - " Joe began, surprise in his tone. "That could take a while!"

But Frank just cocked his head and nodded slowly. "We can if you really think we should."

So the three of them carefully went to hide behind the stacked crates that haphazardly lined the walls outside the double doors.

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long.

* * *

 **TBC**

* * *

Review! I **love** your feedback. It keeps me writing. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you all for your continued encouragement! It means a lot. :)

* * *

It would've been better had they not come.

Carson Drew certainly would've preferred it.

He didn't want his little girl and Fenton's boys coming after him. Not here.

 _Not here._

Those criminals were messing around with that confounded spring water in ways unfathomably wrong.

 _And the kids were here._ He knew that because the villains had graciously offered him a play-by-play.

He had wanted to believe they were lying, but he was a lawyer. An admittedly excellent one, at that. He knew when people lied...

...And he also heard the scuffling in the hall when Nancy, Frank and Joe were captured.

It was them all right.

He knew that that Nancy was as thirsty for answers as her mother had been, and that knowledge gave him more pain than joy at the moment. Oh, was he proud of Nancy. He was _so_ proud of his brilliant detective girl. But in that moment, he wished that she instead had a knack for baking or pottery or accounting or _landscaping_ for all he cared, so long as it was something that _wouldn't have led her here._ So long as it wasn't the skill of...detection. Snooping? Of seeing the answers when no one else could. Any other calling, so long as Nancy's fate wasn't the polar opposite of Kate's.

And as selfish as it was, he was glad Frank and Joe were with her. Those three were good, especially together. Extraordinary. Gifted. Blessed, perhaps. You couldn't keep them down.

But they wouldn't make it out of this unscathed.

They _couldn't_ now.

Joe had the water in his system, the poor kid. What kind of monsters dose a seventeen-year-old with that stuff? He was a _child,_ say what you would of his skill and bravado. He was just a boy.

Carson gritted his teeth and reflexively pulled at the restraints binding his wrists to the arms of a solid, wooden chair.

He was angry. His calm lawyer exterior wasn't holding up.

Nancy. _Nancy has to escape._ And there was still hope for Frank. Frank could still have a full life (as if he'd want to if his little brother couldn't).

But it was almost certainly too late for Joe. Carson didn't want to _think_ about Fenton when he considered the fate of his second-born.

 _"Too late" isn't the correct expression,_ he thought, absent-minded and numb with comprehension.

 **~ND~**

As the three of them crouched behind the crates, Nancy was starting to lose some of her perturbed anticipation until Joe shifted his position - to get a better look at the double doors through a disconcertingly large crack in the haphazard wall of crates - and she got a good look at his face.

"Joe...how is your eye feeling?" Nancy asked, gesturing to her own corresponding eye. In this light, Joe's black eye looked...well, not anything like a black eye.

"Oh," he answered, touching the skin around the injury. "It doesn't really hurt." He shrugged. "Adrenaline, I guess."

"I guess," she said uncertainly. She glanced at Frank, who - with a clouded expression - was fingering his left wrist and staring at nothing.

"What are you thinking?" she asked him quietly, keeping the double doors in her peripheral vision.

"Hmm?"

"Nance asked what you're thinking," Joe supplied.

"Oh - it's just, how long do you think we've been here?" Frank met Joe's and then Nancy's gaze. His voice was solemn, if not grim.

 _"Way_ too long," Joe offered. "We wouldn't be stuck huddled behind crates if we had created a diversion - "

Nancy smacked his arm, but she was too caught up in her own train of thought to make it have any impact (besides earning a triumphant, brotherly smirk from Joe).

"No..." Frank shook his head. "I mean, how long have we been _here?_ How long have we been captured?" He lifted his eyebrows. "I mean, it's night, but I don't know if it's eight or midnight!"

"Well, how long was I out?" Joe asked his brother.

"Out?" Nancy asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Joe shrugged. "They forced me to drink something that knocked me out - or maybe it was the knock to the head that did _that_ trick. I don't know." He smiled, the kind of smile that looked like it was on the verge of turning into a laugh (and it might have, had they not been hiding). "I was out for a while, but I guess they can't kill me."

"That really isn't funny, Joe," Frank snapped - or, at least, came as close to snapping as Frank Hardy ever got. "I thought you were going to die, from what I thought was a poison, _right in front of me._ And with a gag, I couldn't even _yell."_

Joe's bravado slid away.

For a few still moment, all three of them looked out at the doors and said not a word.

"Sorry, Frank," Joe said finally. "I was scared too, for the record."

Frank nodded, the anger gone. "I know...I know." He grabbed Joe's shoulder carefully, playfully. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Nancy didn't want to break the brotherly-reconciliation moment, but she had realized something and there was an answer that she _needed._

"Umm..." she began. "I need to check something - "

Both of the boys looked at her - expectant, wide-eyed, smiling a little. The camaraderie the three of them shared struck her - and she suddenly felt all the foreboding come rushing back full force, though she knew not why.

She just knew something was off.

She grabbed Joe's wrist and examined her own, side by side.

"Nan?" Joe looked concerned. "Are you all right?"

Frank simply looked amused until she dropped Joe's wrist and took his.

Nancy turned Frank's wrist around. Yes, there - Frank had rope burn, all around his wrists, just as she did.

But _Joe didn't._

Something caught in Nancy's throat. "Uh..." she choked out. But before she could form the words she needed, the double doors opened.

* * *

 **TBA**

* * *

 **P.S. A/N:** The reference to the death of Nancy's mother is from HerInteractive's "The Silent Spy" - if you haven't played the game (and I highly recommend that you do), in it Nancy's mom, Kate, was a spy killed in the midst of completing a mission. It seemed appropriate to throw the little reference in. ;)

 **Review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** A special thanks to the Javelin and the Lance, for all those Hardy Boys talks we've had. ;) Love y'all!

* * *

All three of them crouched lower behind the crates, and those rough-looking men emerged, passing their hiding place without a second glance.

Nancy let go of Frank's wrist.

Frank lifted his brows pointedly.

Nancy nodded, like Frank's look was about the men leaving the room and not about the wrist examination.

Frank went with it.

Joe opened his mouth and then shut it again.

They all let it pass in the stillness, and they reached a silent agreement.

The three of them carefully crept out of the shadows and the castle of crates. Nancy tried the door.

"It's locked?" Frank asked.

"No..." Nancy pulled. "Just very, very heavy - "

Joe grabbed the handle and yanked it open like it was nothing. Nancy jabbed him playfully, but was too focused on the room ahead to make it effective.

"It'll be fine, Nan," Joe said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. Knowing. Serious. "It's always fine."

She nodded.

Frank said nothing; he simply walked on ahead - an arm extended to the side, like that could actually shield Joe and Nancy if anything really happened.

It wouldn't save them.

It couldn't.

The foreign, disconcerting knot tightened in Nancy's stomach and they entered the vast, shadowed room.

"Dad?" she whispered.

"Mr. Drew?" said Joe.

"Shhhhhhh," Frank cautioned. "We don't know for certain..."

 **~ND~**

Carson Drew heard them.

All three of them.

It was proof of what he had, of course, already known.

He had known they were there and he would have died - he would have _lived_ \- to make them leave.

He grit his teeth. There was no making them leave, even if they had wanted to.

And with those three, you could bet money they didn't want to.

He went over everything that had transpired in the past hours, trying to find a flaw in his reasoning. Hoping to find that he couldn't be right – that he couldn't possibly be right.

Not about Nancy, Frank, and Joe being there. That was solid fact.

No – he wanted to be wrong about the water.

He desperately wanted to be wrong.

After all, it rather defied logic, didn't it? It seemed absurd to think that a spring could really contain water with such properties.

But tell that to a man who had seen his own skin heal up - slowly, but methodically and thoroughly - in front of his face in less than an hour.

Even he couldn't argue his way out of that.

No; there was no mistake. There was no delusion. Not on his part, at least.

No.

As Carson Drew lived and breathed,

the water

was

 _real._

 **~ND~**

As the three sleuths searched the vast, warehouse-esque room, the wheels in Joe's head were turning.

Nancy's wrist examination had had a purpose, and as he pressed the skin around what should have been his black eye, he - in a cruelly clear flash - understood what she had seen.

He couldn't be positively sure, but what else could it be?

No, but wait... _how?_ That couldn't be.

And yet...

He turned his wrists all angles in the dim light.

And yet, here he was.

Unblemished.

Far too soon, too quickly - _unnaturally -_ unblemished.

"Good _night_ ," he muttered to himself.

 **~ND~**

Frank was multitasking.

Half of his focus was on finding Mr. Drew; half was on what Nancy could have possibly have been looking for, with the whole wrist thing.

Part of him already suspected - but it was so ridiculous, so far-fetched.

It wasn't possible.

And yet...he had seen what the ruffians had done to Joe. He had _been_ there. He also knew pretty well - from personal experience - how long things took to heal, and roughly an hour wasn't it.

Of course he had noticed the lack of rope burn on he brother's wrists.

An advanced healing formula, maybe? Even that sounded ridiculous, and that was the most logical thing he could fathom.

No, no, no...there had to be some other explanation.

But what ever it was, it wasn't...normal.

The thought sent a chill up his spin.

 **~ND~**

"We don't know what we'll find," Frank quietly reminded them. He glanced at Nancy. "We have to be prepared."

Nancy knew her father was close. She just knew.

And she knew something else: Frank was concerned. _Really_ concerned. She doubted that, besides herself, anyone but Joe and Mr. Hardy would have been able to tell, but it was as plain as day to her.

 **~ND~**

"Are you okay?" came a whisper. Nancy was giving Frank a concerned attempt at a smile.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he answered quietly, softly.

Joe turned to give Frank a _did-someone-hit-you-a-little-too-hard-while-I-was-out_ eyebrow raise. "I can name a few reasons," he offered, keeping his voice low. "How about like the fact that - "

Nancy gave Joe a look, then turned back to his older brother.

"Frank, you just..." she trailed off. "You looked a little...unsure. Concerned."

 _Scared._ Scared _is the word, Nan_ , Joe thought. Which was foolish; it was _Nancy's_ dad they were rescuing. And yet, Joe was concerned - yes, maybe even scared, just for a moment - too.

Unnatural healing did that to a person.

 **~ND~**

Carson had made up his mind.

Now, in all likelihood, it wouldn't make a difference. But it _might._ It might be enough to save Nancy and Frank.

He could hardly stand to think of Joe.

He refused to think of Fenton.

He had determined to not let them know he was here. He wouldn't answer, though it was beyond painful to think of Nancy so close.

But Nancy and Frank _had a chance -_ and as long as they had a chance, no matter how small, he would try.

* * *

 **TBC**

* * *

Let me know your thoughts! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I apologize for the lengthy wait! Review and let me know if you would like this story-line to update more regularly. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has followed this story from the beginning. I appreciate each and every one of you! :)

* * *

Did it matter?

It _always_ matters whether you fight or not.

Always.

At least that's what Carson Drew told himself, over and over.

 _They fought. They fought. That's the best you can hope for._

Did it matter that Frank and Nancy thrashed and kicked and lashed out at their attackers, or that Joe took a bullet to his heart and then _stood up again?_

Hardly.

Carson wanted to scream. What did _any_ of it matter?

He had the water in his system.

Joe had the water in _his_ system.

And mercy, if Nancy and Frank didn't, they soon would.

The water held a power no earthly thing should.

If only it were merely unnatural healing. That would be a gift.

But to live forever frozen where you were?

Joe would never physically turn eighteen.

He'd be seventeen in 1940, 1960, 1980...

He'd be seventeen in _2000,_ good grief: he'd be, physically, seventeen when this millennium rolled into the next.

He'd be seventeen in 2020.

Joe would be a teenager to the end of this world.

Carson would never be able to look Fenton in the eye again.

 **~ND~**

It had been a brutally quick fight.

"Are you all right?" Frank asked, instinctively trying to pull against his bonds. He was tied to a chair - Nancy similarly was bound, their chairs back-to-back.

He and Nancy were alone in the room Joe had called a lab. They must've have tied Joe up and left him with Mr. Drew, for whatever reasons they had.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "Are _you?"_

"Yes," he answered, although he was fairly certain he had a black eye now. "What is happening?" he murmured, more to himself than to Nancy. "Why... _why_ is this happening? Why - "

"Why did Joe's eye heal so fast?" Nancy finished for him. "And what is the deal with the tonic water'?"

"'Tonic water'?"

"Yes," explained Nancy, "I heard the three men talking about it - they seemed to think whether or not we knew about it was important."

Frank thought about it. "It heals. It heals unnaturally, inhumanly fast."

Nancy drew a breath, and Frank could imagine the expression on her face. One of concentration, betraying the logic and understanding warring in her mind.

 _It couldn't be,_ he imagined her thoughts saying. _But it is._

 **~ND~**

That fight was over so _quickly._

And now Joe was bound to another chair.

Twice in one day-slash-night. Not exactly a record for him, though.

But why was he here with Mr. Drew when the villains had dragged Frank and Nancy off? Was it because of the unnatural healing?

 _What had they done to him? What was in the water?!_

"I'm so, so sorry, Joe," Mr. Drew had said, as though it was his fault.

Joe Hardy wasn't often afraid.

He tried to tell himself this was no occasion to let fear grip his usually-immune heart.

But then again, he had never before seen Carson Drew look so anguished.

 **~ND~**

Nancy wished she could see Frank's face. She wished Joe wasn't separated from them and she wished her father was in his study going over a case rather than the horrendous situation that was their reality.

But there had to be way.

Wasn't there always?

But this time, even she, Nancy Drew, wasn't so sure.

* * *

 **TBC**


End file.
